Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery
by KiraXsama
Summary: Spoilers for L's, Near's, Mello's, and Matt's real names, as well as Another Note. Everyone makes mistakes and L is no exception - especially when it comes to Beyond Birthday.


So, I'm part of this fic challenge community on LiveJournal called Mission Insane, and my claim for it is Death Note. I wrote this for the prompt "Monster."

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**Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery**

L didn't sleep for various reasons, the main and most obvious being that he almost never stopped working. The second (and also very obvious) reason was that he was almost constantly ingesting sugar, which kept him awake. The third, though, was something only one other person knew about. And that person happened to _be_ the reason.

L properly met Beyond Birthday for the first time when he was in the library. It was early morning – the morning after A's funeral, in fact – still long before sunrise, and he was simply enjoying being alone, surrounded by the books he grew up with. He was even enjoying not working, for a change, but then the silence around him was shattered by the faint echo of footsteps cautiously approaching and a quiet voice whispering his name.

L inclined his head toward the source of the voice and saw a thin boy shuffling closer to him. "Yes?"

The boy smiled widely, apparently very happy that L had taken notice of him. "Can I... would you let me sit with you?" He wrung his hands together nervously, eyes wide with anticipation.

There was something about the boy that made L uneasy, something he couldn't quite place, but he pushed it out of his mind and nodded, gesturing to the empty chair opposite.

"Thank you!" The boy's smile grew even huger as he sat down.

L chewed on his thumb, trying to decipher exactly what it was about the boy that made him so uncomfortable. "You're B, right? Beyond Birthday?"

"Yes," B breathed, staring at L in awe. L fancied that he was probably shocked to be addressed by name. After all, he _was_ just a backup.

"I thought so," L said with a nod. "You're very intelligent, Beyond."

B practically beamed, unable to believe that L was complimenting him, but then his face fell. "Not as intelligent as you. Or A." He whispered the letter and looked down at his hands, trying to keep himself from crying again.

L frowned. He was at a loss as to what he could say to B – after all, he was never any good at consoling. Just as L was going to tell B that he was brilliant, whether he wanted to believe him or not, the boy spoke.

"I knew he was going to die," B said flatly, obviously straining to keep his voice devoid of emotion.

"How could you have known? He didn't tell-"

"No," B said, shaking his head. "I... I need you to believe me. Promise you'll believe me or I can't tell you." He was looking at L pleadingly, chewing on his lip.

L offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'll believe you."

"I can see..." B hesitated and glanced around them, even though he knew they were alone. "I can see people's names, their real names. And how long they have left to live."

L's eyes widened almost comically. He hadn't been expecting this in the least. "What do you mean?"

B visibly relaxed at this point, probably because L was yet to call him insane or tell him to shut up. "I've always been able to see them. The names... and numbers, L Lawliet. Always hovering above people's heads. Except my own numbers. I've never been able to see my own."

L was even more uncomfortable around B now, to say the very least. The boy obviously wasn't lying because there was only one person beside L himself who knew his real name, and Wammy would not have told it to B under any circumstances.

"I couldn't have stopped A," B stated, though L could tell he only said it because he wanted confirmation of this.

L shook his head solemnly. "No, you couldn't have. And I understand why you didn't tell anybody about this."

B scowled and then said sourly, "They wouldn't have believed me."

"I believe you," L said quietly.

B hid his face behind his hands, clenching his eyes shut. "He was my only friend," he said, voice tired and strained. "I have no one else, L."

L bit down on his thumb, not knowing what to say to make B feel better. And then it came to him: "You have me." He knew it was probably a mistake, offering his friendship to B, but the boy needed comfort. As he'd said, his only friend had committed suicide simply because he could not take the pressure of being made into L. It was technically his fault that B was alone now.

"Really?" B asked, lifting his head to stare at L. "You really mean that?"

L smiled and nodded, despite his better judgment. "Yes."

B stood up and rushed over to L, wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you, L."

It wasn't long after that B began dressing and acting like L. He adopted L's preferred way of sitting and taste for sweets. He hunched over all the time and even went so far as to nibble on his thumb, just like L.

Of course, L wasn't around to see B's transformation. He was off solving cases and being, well, _L._

B understood that L wasn't going to be around much, but he'd hoped that L would have given him a way to contact him if he needed. And he _did_ need to, but L wasn't there and B couldn't contact him, so he found himself all alone but for his reflection – the reflection, quite ironically, that he had perfected in order to look like L.

Wammy approached B one day, bringing him some tea and a jar of strawberry jam. "I would like to speak with you, B," he said, setting the tea tray down.

B reached out to grab the jam without invitation and twisted the cap off before eating the contents straight from the jar. "About what?"

"L," Wammy said mildly. "More specifically, your desire to become him."

B didn't speak and merely slurped at the jam, practically drinking it.

"I'm sorry to say that you cannot become L. Dressing and acting like him will not get you any closer to claiming his title one day."

"But I thought I was _supposed_ to be like L!" B yelled, slamming the jar down and spilling some of the jam over his hand. "That's what I've been told for years, that I would be the next L – that I had to learn how to think like L and _be_ L in case anything ever happened to him!"

"I understand that you're upset, B, but you must understand, imitating L will not help you become him. I'm afraid you don't have what it takes to be L. I must admit that I made a mistake when I thought I could create copies of him," Wammy said, refusing to look B in the eye.

"Upset?" B repeated with a dry laugh. "You have _no_ idea what I'm feeling right now! My entire _life_ has just become a LIE! A failed _experiment_!" He was shaking with the effort not to panic. He felt light-headed and nauseated and he wanted nothing more than to hit Wammy until the old man stopped breathing. Instead, he stood up and stormed away from Wammy, away from his stupid orphanage, away from the only place that had ever really been _home._

B fancied himself to be even more alone than when A had died, because at least then he had L.

L. He was the cause of all of this. He could find L, explain what happened, and surely, _surely_ L would tell him it would all be alright. Yes, L would continue to teach him despite what Wammy had told him and he _would_ become the next L.

Needless to say, B did not find L for a very long time. He spent every waking moment tracking the detective down, following leads wherever they would take him. No matter what though, L would always slip away.

It seemed to B that he would always be destined for failure, just like Wammy said. But B, being the kind of person that he was, refused to give up. He vowed to do whatever it took to find L... at whatever cost.

The second time L and B had a real conversation, it was by telephone.

L was curled up in a chair, sifting through papers and files when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, flipped it open and held it delicately next to his ear. "Hello?"

"_L_," the voice said, sounding almost desperate. "I knew I'd find you eventually."

"Beyond," L said coolly, eyes narrowing.

"So you _do_ remember me!" B exclaimed with a cackle. "I thought you'd forgotten about me. After all, I'm no more than your pitiful little _backup_."

L frowned – he had never thought of B as a backup. "How could I forget about you when you're killing people to get my attention?"

"You noticed? That's very sweet of you, L."

L swore he could hear B grinning. "What happened to you, Beyond?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer, although he was pretty sure he already _did._

"Why, you, of course," B said simply, giggling to himself. "You happened to me. I was told to be just like you, L. Juuuust like you. But I couldn't do it, you see. I failed. A failed too, but you already knew about that. You even told me you'd be my friend. But you're a liar, L. L for liar, B for backup. Funny how these things work, isn't it?" B took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his breath making the line hum with static. "You cast me aside so easily after telling me you'd be my friend. I never meant anything to you, did I, L Laaawliet? I was never anything more than your cop-"

"That's a lie and you know it, Beyond Birthday," L said sharply. "I considered you my friend. You're brilliant and you know that too. You're ruining yourself by doing this, Beyond. You are destroying any hope for our friendship by killing people."

B laughed humourlessly. "_I'm_ destroying it, L? What about when you disappeared and left me all alone? All alone with no one to talk to? All alone while I faded into the shadows because I wasn't _good enough_ to be the next L? Where were you then? What was holding our _friendship_ together then, L?" he demanded, spitting the words. "What else would have attracted your _attention,_ if I hadn't started this whole mess?"

"You know I couldn't-"

"Right, right, you couldn't be there. You couldn't find a way to speak to me, even if for a few minutes, just to see how I was doing, how I was managing all alone, without A. You never gave a damn about him. And I'm sure you don't give a damn about Nate or Mihael or Mail either," B hissed. "That's right, I know about all of your little 'heirs' and how they're going to replace you when you die. They're pleasant enough, and smart, but not as smart as you, L. And not as smart as me, even if I am just a backup. They won't ever be as good as me, because they'll never be as good as you. And I'm your equal, L, you know that, right? That's why you won't be able to catch me. I'm beginning to think I might even be _better_ than you."

"I'll catch you, Beyond," L said firmly. "I cannot let you get away with this, especially for the childish reasons behind your actions. Killing is not acceptable. You know that. And now that you've got my attention, you can be sure I will catch you. I will stop you and put you behind bars where you belong."

B clicked his tongue. "No, you won't," he said with a chuckle. "You can't catch me because B comes before L. I'm going to prove I'm smarter than you and better than you and _I'm_ going to become the next L, not one of those little brats. We'll speak again soon, I assure you. Goodbye for now, L."

The line went dead before L could say anything. He closed his phone and set it down on his desk, eyeing it warily.

The second time L and B met in person, it was in prison.

"You look terrible," L told him dryly. He was, of course, referring to the burns that covered most of B's body.

"I suppose this is your way of torturing me?" B spat out, glaring at L. "Showing up now, after all this time?"

L shrugged. "I never wanted it to come to this, Beyond. You made this happen. You did this."

B nodded. "I did this, yes. But you _made_ me do it. You left me, L," he said, choking on the words. "You left me when I needed you. The only way I could get to you was by creating the one case you'd never be able to solve. Of course that Misora bitch ruined it all-"

"Do not speak ill of Naomi Misora," L said dangerously.

"Right, of course not. Where have my manners gone? While we're at it, would you like me to get you some _tea_?" B asked, gesturing wildly and wincing at the pain it caused. "Well, I would, but, you know, jail and all. I don't even get tea. Or jam..." He looked distant for a moment... almost nostalgic.

L chewed on his thumb fiercely, confused and frightened. How could B have become this monster? A monster that _he_ created. "I am sorry, Beyond."

"No, you aren't," B said smoothly, eyes flickering to a spot above L's head. "You're not sorry at all. You just feel guilty because you know that _you're_ the reason I'm like this."

"Maybe you're right, Beyond, but I never wanted this to happen. I never dreamt that you could become such a terrible person."

B glared at L. "I was only doing what I was raised to do. To become L. And the only way I could do that was to beat you at your own game."

"You're simply making excuses for yourself. You're very sick, Beyond." L shifted, uncomfortable under B's gaze, just as he had been the first time they met all those years ago.

"I speak only the truth to you, L. I could never lie to you," B said sweetly. "I am everything you are, and I could never lie to myself."

"I am not a killer, and no matter how much you mimic me, you will never _be_ me," L told him firmly. B shot him a puzzled glance. "Don't think I don't know of your little habit, and how you dressed and acted like me."

"Hm. You seem to know everything about me. Maybe it's because we're so alike." B's face contorted into what should have been a smile, but looked more like a grimace of pain. He looked absolutely mad.

L stood. "I'm leaving now, Beyond," he informed his counterpart quietly. "Goodbye." His gaze lingered on B before he turned to leave, looking almost depressed.

"Leaving me again? So soon?" B asked, tilting his head to the side, watching L walk away. L did not react, but B wasn't willing to leave it there. "Just remember L, whenever you look at yourself, you'll be seeing me. Because I'm just like you. You cannot escape me. You've never been able to."

At the time, L didn't know just how true B's words were.

No, L didn't sleep much, and unfortunately, B was one of the main reasons why. The detective dreamt of B when he slept – dreamt of the tiny fragile boy who had lost his best friend, the boy who could see death coming, whom he had befriended but then left to fend for himself. B was all L could think about when he wasn't throwing himself into his work.

And so he didn't sleep. He refused to let himself become vulnerable to B again. He refused to let B have control of his dreams, twisting them into nightmares, forcing him to acknowledge that he'd created the monster B had become.

For the most part, L succeeded at not thinking about B, but every once in a while, he would catch a glimpse of his reflection and see scarlet eyes instead of black. It was then that he would quietly panic, heart racing, because B was right. He could never escape him.

It turned out that B had won after all, just not in the way he had hoped.

**-fin-**


End file.
